While the involuntarily toxic impresario Gary Mandell can go ahead and send out his laundry because he figures to be gainfully employed the next three summers in the Courtyard at City Hall — not by Marriott — the nearby natives are stirring, having been stirred up by City Councilman Gary Silbiger.
Typically poker-faced, Mr. Silbiger’s countenance nearly creased into a smile last night as a series of speakers, all shlepping separate causes, alternately begged and demanded that ordinary citizens immediately be granted a wider role in City Hall policymaking.
Although there was scant evidence of such fervent feelings until recently, Mr. Silbiger has been drum-beating for a more direct voice for citizens for seven years. He may yet leave office with a major legacy.
As for Mr. Mandell, apparently his contracted assignment as the uniquely successful producer of the Summer Music Festival concert series in the City Hall Courtyard, is safe for the next three years.
Safe Until the Venue Changes
With the Summer Music Festival expected to remain in the Courtyard through the ’11 season before shifting over to Towne Plaza, the City Council rewarded Mr. Mandell’s near-decade of loyalty and accomplishment with a patch of job security at last night’s meeting.
Making rare harmony of its own while eschewing drama or hesitation, the City Council unanimously voted to reject a bid by Mr. Mandell’s critics on the Cultural Affairs Commission to dangle him over a cliff and send out feelers, in the next few days, for the ever-popular Next Producer.
Again.
The culturalists wanted the Council to certify a document, unimaginatively known as a Request for Proposal, and authorize its dispersion among the masses — before the July 9 start of the season — as a means of trolling for a new producer. The culturists conceded that Mr. Mandell has essayed a dandy job by turning what had been a flat-tire event into a fireworks show every Thursday in the good, ol’ summertime. But, they hedged, just in case their prospective antagonist loses interest in the job that he loves, or if they get a bite on their line from someone handsomer and/or younger, maybe, then, they could make a deal and not have to worry about threatening Mr. Mandell every summer.
The Council wasn’t biting, though. Both friends and former foes among the Councilmen, notably Mr. Silbiger, avidly rushed to the side of the harried entrepreneur.
A Veteran Duck-er
Despite his annual accomplishment of staging the most talked-about live performances in Culver City, he has been regularly cast in the role of a Westside Ahmadinejad by critics eager to bathe in the modest limelight around him. Around City Hall, cultural mavens have made careers out of threatening his job every year. For that reason, Mr. Mandell has more experience at bullet-ducking than fat, sweaty South American bully boy dictators.
Speaking of elbows to the ribs, the storyline of the night may turn out to be fulfillment of Mr. Silbiger’s most cherished dream, an aroused citizenry.
The movement is no threat in size to the protestors in the streets of Iran, but it is burgeoning.
For finally igniting the long-passive citizenry, Mr. Silbiger may take a deserved bow. With 10 months to go before he is term-limited next April, the most content isolationist on the dais could be about to see years of populist seed-planting bear
lush fruit.
Spraying into City Hall from various neighborhoods for City Council meetings, a movement that either is growing or becoming noisier seems to be developing. This community of activists is espousing a bouquet of causes , and members are bonded by common passion. Whether they can summon the strategic muscle to actually win a wider role in policymaking will have to be played out.
In the view of Mehaul O’Leary, the chair of the Redevelopment Agency who often is prominently sympathetic with complaining residents, the core issue is not sudden activism but a perceived secrecy at City Hall that is fed by a lack of candor or transparency.
A Left-Out Feeling
“When a developer comes to the c ity,” Mr. O’Leary said this morning, “there is a misunderstanding of the (closed-door) process, “and by the time people first hear about the project, they feel it already has gone too far.
“Maybe we have not been forthcoming enough in letting people know what is going on.”
However, he quickly added that inviting ordinary citizens into acutely sensitive closed-door sessions is no solution. “It would not be feasible to have everyone involved,” Mr. O’Leary said. “But I am hoping to talk to the new City Manager (Mark Scott) about ways to make residents feel more involved.”
The Council meets in closed session, as determined by law, before every meeting. About 99 percent of the time, the mayor announces at the opening of the meeting that “there is nothing to report out.”
“The process of dealing with developers does not have to be overhauled,” Mr. O’Leary said, “but we must become more transparent.” He suggested that a report be given on every closed session instead of wadding the report into a ball and throwing it away. “Then, maybe, this impression of secrecy or hiding something can be allayed,” he said.
COUNCIL NOTES — In the spirit of mollification, the much disputed condo/commercial project at 4043 Irving Pl. advanced to another milestone. The Council agreed to reimburse builder Sal Gonzales and his partners $577,000 for reducing the density of his prospective building and thereby reducing the ear-splitting howl of neighbors…
With a new regime in the City Manager’s office, resident Richard Rownak is hoping for relief in his marathon feud with a neighboring furniture store that fronts on Sepulveda Boulevard. With Agency Chair O’Leary catching the hint from Mr. Rownak, he and others on the dais urged City Manager Scott and his staff to bring this disagreement to a conclusion with a measure of mercy for the petitioner…A sylph of a man floated into Council Chambers. Tall, skinny and barely recognizable, he said his name was Jeff Muir. He said he is the Chief Financial Officer of Culver City. He has shed a walloping 83 pounds since late January, shaving his 6-foot-3 frame from 293 pounds to 210. Much, much exercise accompanied his Kaiser Hospital-authorized liquid diet, said the 39-year-old Mr. Muir. On Sunday, he even competed in a mini-triathlon, a half-mile swim, 6-mile bike ride and 2-mile run…
